


Just Hold Me

by Attenia



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Out of Character Legolas Greenleaf, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-08
Updated: 2019-06-08
Packaged: 2020-04-23 00:30:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19139959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Attenia/pseuds/Attenia
Summary: Legolas is deathly ill, and Thranduil writes to Imladris for help. Elrond sends Aragorn to Greenwood to meet Legolas for the first time. Aragorn soon realizes that the prince's ailment is not physical, and goes back much further than anyone had thought. OOC Legolas. Trigger warnings for eating disorders.





	Just Hold Me

“This way, please.”  
Aragorn tried not to stare as he took in King Thranduil’s halls for the first time. He still couldn’t believe Ada and the twins had let him come unaccompanied. It was the first time he’d been allowed to travel past Imladris’ borders alone, despite having been an adult, by human standards, for three years already.  
He followed the guard who was leading him, and finally stopped at a set of elaborate doors. The guard knocked somewhat hesitantly.  
“Go away!” an angry voice shouted.  
“Come in, please,” said another, calmer voice. The guard obeyed the second speaker and opened the door, gesturing for Aragorn to go inside. Aragorn hesitated, listening to the heated conversation within.   
“I told you, Ada, I don’t need a healer.”  
“It is not one of our healers. I sent word to Imladris.”  
“You did WHAT? I don’t want Elrond, or the twins!”  
“You have made that clear, ion nin. It is not them. It is Elrond’s third son, Estel. Elrond assures me that the man is talented in healing.”  
“I don’t care how talented he is, I don’t need –”  
The guard gave Aragorn a small shove. “Go,” she whispered.  
Aragorn cleared his throat and stepped inside. The expansive rooms were occupied by two blond elves, one lying in bed and the other in a chair at the bedside. The one in the chair jumped up.   
“Estel Elrondion, thank you for coming. I am Thranduil, and this is my son, Legolas.”  
The two of them clasped arms, but Aragorn found his eyes drawn to Legolas. He could see why Thranduil had called for help. The prince was skeletal; he looked like one stray breath of wind might blow him away. Had he not known very well that as a prince, Legolas had more than enough food at his disposal, Aragorn would have diagnosed starvation.  
Legolas folded his arms, refusing to look at either of them. “I don’t need a healer,” he told the bed post.  
“Yes, you do,” Thranduil snapped. “I’ve had just about enough of this, Legolas. I’ve let you talk me out of more drastic action for far too long. You will be seen to by Estel if I have to get the guards to hold you down!”  
It wouldn’t take many guards, by the looks of it. Legolas was skin and bone; he had precious little muscle left.   
“What is wrong with him?” Aragorn asked Thranduil, since it didn’t seem he would get an answer from Legolas.   
“He won’t eat. His appetite seems to have disappeared, and when I do get him to eat, he throws up afterward. He won’t accept herbs to settle his stomach, or let the healers look at him.”  
“That’s because there’s nothing wrong with me,” Legolas snarled.   
“How long has this been going on?”  
“Four months, ever since he got back from a patrol.”  
Legolas flinched at these words, and Aragorn frowned curiously at him. “Did anything unusual happen on the patrol?”  
“His second in command reports that it went as well as can be expected. They lost two warriors, but that was better than he thought they’d come out of it, with as many spiders as they were facing.”  
Legolas suddenly turned on his side, facing away from them, curling himself into a tight ball. Aragorn already had his suspicions, but he was unlikely to get answers from Legolas with Thranduil here.   
“Thank you, hir nin. I think it’s best if you leave us alone for now.”  
As Thranduil left, Aragorn put down his bag of healing supplies. He likely wouldn’t need it. He dragged the chair the king had been sitting in around to the other side of the bed, so that he and Legolas were facing each other.  
The prince’s face was composed, but Aragorn was prepared to bet it hadn’t been a few moments earlier.   
“Hello, Legolas, I’m Estel Elrondion.”  
“Nice to meet you,” Legolas muttered sourly.   
“So, what happened on the patrol?” Aragorn asked gently.  
Legolas flinched. “Ada already told you. We fought spiders. We won. Two died.”  
“You’ve seen your people die to the spiders before, yes?”  
The prince turned again, so that he was once more facing away from Aragorn, and this time, the man didn’t try to change position, giving Legolas his space.  
“Yes.” The prince’s voice shook slightly.   
“Then what made this time so different?”  
“Who said it was different?”  
“I think we both know it was.”  
“Leave me alone, Elrondion, you’re as annoying as your brothers!”  
“I’ll have to tell them you said so.” Aragorn grinned at the thought. “Though I’m not leaving here until you are well. Now, tell me, what made that patrol worse than others when elves had died?”  
“Why are you even asking about the patrol? I thought you were supposed to be a healer!”  
“Well, are you suffering from any physical complaint?”  
There was a long pause. “No,” Legolas admitted.   
“Which brings us back to the patrol.”  
With the patience of one raised by elves, Aragorn waited. Eventually, Legolas’ tight shoulders relaxed, if only because his body didn’t have enough fuel inside it to hold onto the tension.   
“It wasn’t different at all,” Legolas said softly. “It was the same, exactly the same. No matter what I do or how hard I try, people die as I watch. I can’t help them.”  
“Is that why you stopped eating?”  
“It… the emptiness in my stomach, the ache… it helps. I feel less empty, then, somehow, in my mind. Their absence doesn’t eat at me as much.”  
Legolas turned to face him. “Why am I telling you this? Don’t tell me Ada’s been talking to Mithrandir as well.”  
“I have tricked you with no wizard’s spell, I swear it. Ada says that sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone you don’t know, someone who you don’t have any history with. Maybe that’s why he sent me.”  
“Or maybe because I refused to see him and the twins. Just three more people I’ve hurt.”  
“They will understand. They just want you to be well.”  
Legolas snorted. “They shouldn’t be worrying about me. It’s everyone around me who keeps dying.”  
“And you will be next, if you do not eat,” Aragorn told him gently.   
Legolas shrugged, and Aragorn tried to hold back a wince. That wasn’t the reaction he’d been hoping for.   
“Alright. Ok, Legolas, you and I are going to talk, and we’re going to figure out a way to help you. I’m sorry, but that way is going to have to include eating.”  
The prince let out a hollow, humorless laugh. “You can’t make me. No one would dare to force me. I’m the prince of Greenwood.”  
“And I am the son of Elrond. I have been learning the healing arts from him since I was twelve, and that wasn’t all I learned from him. I learned to do whatever is necessary to care for my patients, just like he does. Do you think for one moment that I will hesitate to restrain you and force food down your throat if that’s what’s necessary?”  
Legolas narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t dare. Ada would have your head.”  
“No, he wouldn’t, not when I explain why it’s necessary.”  
Aragorn watched as the prince bit his lip, worry creasing his brows. Legolas must know that he was right about Thranduil.   
“I cannot do it, Estel,” Legolas sighed. “Thank you for trying to help me, but you should leave now.”  
Aragorn’s heart squeezed in sympathy as Legolas curled himself into a tighter ball, looking on the verge of tears. He automatically reached out, but the moment their hands touched, Legolas jerked his arm back.  
“Sorry,” Aragorn said quickly, withdrawing his hand. He remembered the twins saying something about Legolas not liking to be touched, now that he thought about it. He wished he’d enquired further at the time. “Did… has someone hurt you?”  
“What?”  
“I’m only asking because I’m wondering why you don’t like being touched. Sometimes, it’s the result of a trauma.”  
Legolas frowned at him. “What makes you think I don’t like being touched?”  
“Well, you just flinched away from me when I tried to hold your hand…”  
“Oh. It’s not – I’m just not used to it, that’s all.”  
He’d been alive nearly three thousand years and he hadn’t become accustomed to the feeling of another touching him? That was bizarre in the extreme. “Do you not get a lot of physical contact?”  
Legolas laughed again, another empty laugh that showed no true mirth. “I am the king’s only son. None dare lay a hand on me, not even servants, not since I got old enough to dress myself. Every once in a while, Ada will clasp my arm after I return from a long journey…”   
He trailed off, looking thoughtful. “He’s been more present recently, though. We’ve actually had a few real conversations, and he even held my hand once. I suppose that’s one good thing in all of this. What? Why are you looking at me like that?”  
Aragorn quickly composed his features. “Legolas, you’re telling me no one in Greenwood offers you physical comfort, ever?”  
The prince shook his head.  
“What about emotional?”  
“It is unbefitting of a prince to show weakness. Ada taught me that early on.”  
“Not even to him? Don’t the two of you talk about things that are bothering you?”  
“We discuss problems in the kingdom and the best strategies to solve them.”  
That wasn’t what he meant. “You mean to tell me that the only time you ever receive any kind of support or comfort from someone is when you’re with my family in Imladris once every decade or so? And even then it is only verbal, because they think you don’t like being touched?”  
“Yes. So what? I’m strong, I do not need to be held like an elfling.”  
“Oh Legolas, everyone needs to be held,” Aragorn sighed.   
“Ada doesn’t.”  
“Yes, he does, and if he’s been denying himself the way he’s been denying you, it’s no wonder he’s as emotionally distant as you describe.”  
“My father denies me nothing! He loves me.”  
“I know he loves you. I could tell that easily from just the short time we spent together. But loving someone doesn’t mean you always do everything right, no matter how hard you might try.”  
Aragorn was beginning to get a clearer picture of the situation now. Every time Legolas made a mistake, he had no one to aid him in getting past it, to support him and help him move on. No wonder it had started eating him alive. He was starving for affection, literally.  
“Can I try something?”  
“If that something involves food –”  
“It doesn’t, at least not yet.”  
Legolas shrugged and nodded. “Fine, then.”  
He stared as Aragorn climbed onto the bed, coming to sit next to him.   
“What are you doing?”  
“Just relax and let me do this. Tell me if you want me to stop, ok?”  
Legolas stiffened as Aragorn slowly drew the prince into a gentle hug. They remained there, and Aragorn started rubbing the elf’s back, relaxing into the embrace. Very gradually, Legolas relaxed too. A wetness on the back of his tunic told Aragorn that the prince was crying.  
He tried to pull back, to get a look at Legolas’ face and see what was wrong, but the elf’s arms suddenly clenched around him, and his silent tears turned to sobs, his whole body shaking. Aragorn couldn’t even imagine how many centuries it had been since Legolas had been held, and what it must feel like to finally have this simple need met.   
“It’s alright, mellon nin,” he soothed, holding Legolas close and continuing to rub his back. “I am here for you. Just let it all out, everything that has built up inside you. I will help you survive it.”  
There was no response other than an increase in the volume of the prince’s crying. Aragorn gently pulled the two of them so that they were lying down. Legolas hid his face in the man’s chest, clutching at him like a he was the sole root in a sheer cliff face.   
“I know it feels overwhelming, but it will get easier, I promise you. That’s right, let it go. You’re doing well.”  
He continued to murmur comforting words, not complaining when Legolas’ tight grip started to cut off the circulation in his arms. The prince tried to say something, but his words came out garbled and choked by sobs.   
“Don’t try to talk now, there will be plenty of time for that later.”  
The sun slowly sank, and had risen again before Legolas cried himself into exhaustion. When he finally quieted, Aragorn thought he might be asleep, but on checking, he found the elf’s eyes present and alert.  
“I’m sorry.” Legolas pulled away. “That was entirely inappropriate –”  
“No, it was not. You needed that, and I was happy to give it to you. It is normal to want to be comforted by another when you are hurting, I promise. And I am not going to let you go back to pretending you’re a rock that has no emotions and no needs. Starting from today, you are going to tell me what you need, alright?”  
Tears were leaking from Legolas’ eyes again. “Just… just hold me?” There was a desperate kind of pleading laid bare in the request, and Aragorn now knew just how hard it must have been for the prince to make it.  
In answer, he held his arms out, and Legolas willingly came into them. It took several more hours for the next bout of crying to stop, by which time they were both exhausted. This time, Legolas lay peacefully in his arms, seeming to focus simply on breathing.  
“What now?” he asked eventually.  
“Now, I have a very stern talk about your father on the cause of your ailment and how to fix it. I am going to teach you the two of you how to express both physical and emotional affection. Then he is going to lift whatever blanket of fear has everyone on the palace afraid of touching you. You are going to pick five people here who you like, and you will start talking to them, sharing your problems, and letting them help you.  
“But before that, we are going to Imladris. I’m going to talk to my family and correct the notion that you don’t like being touched. You will spend a few months with us recovering, before returning here with me and working on making friends with some of the people you see regularly.”  
“They’ll think me weak,” Legolas breathed. “They won’t respect me.”  
“The thing about caring for someone, mellon nin, is that you still love and respect them even if they have moments of weakness.”  
“Do you really mean that – mellon nin? We’ve only just met.”  
Aragorn brushed a tear off the prince’s cheek. “I would like very much to be your friend, if you’ll have me.”  
“I’ve never had any friends other than the twins.”  
“Well, now you do, and you will soon have more. Once the twins realize that you don’t actually have an aversion to being touched, they’ll be all over you. You must have seen how physically affectionate they are with everyone else.”  
Legolas nodded. “I thought they were afraid of Ada’s wrath, like all the others.”  
“Bah, Thranduil would never go up against Elrond, he has more brains than that.”  
Legolas chuckled. This time, it was a real laugh, one that made his eyes sparkle, and Aragorn loved it. “That much is true, I suppose.”  
“Can I try something else? I’ll have to let go of you for a bit, but I think you’ll like it.” Legolas stiffened slightly, and Aragorn correctly read his reluctance. “You don’t need to worry about never getting the opportunity to be held again. Trust me, there will be a lot of this in your future.”  
“I do trust you,” Legolas said quietly. He allowed Aragorn to let go of him and pull his shirt over his head.   
“What are you doing?”  
Aragorn smiled. “You’ll see. Lie down on your stomach.”  
Legolas moaned slightly at the man started kneading his tense shoulder muscles. “Estel… what are you doing? That feels…”  
“I figured you’ve never had a massage before. Just relax and enjoy.”  
By the time he was done, Legolas was almost asleep. He mumbled something incoherent and turned, his arms searching. Aragorn easily pulled him into an embrace, allowing the exhausted prince to drift off with his head resting on the man’s chest.   
Legolas woke a few hours later, stretching and smiling lazily. “Hello.”  
“Hello, sleepyhead. I wondered how long you’d be out for.”  
“I don’t remember sleeping that well in… I don’t remember how long.”  
Aragorn felt his stomach rumbling, and smiled ruefully. “I think I need some food. Will you join me?”  
Legolas hesitated for a moment, but then he nodded, though his eyes were uncertain.  
“I will be with you every step of the way,” Aragorn assured him. “You don’t have to eat much today – your body will need time to get used to having full meals again.   
“Can… can you do something?”  
“What do you need?”  
“Just… hold me while I eat? I – I don’t think I can face food alone.”  
Aragorn pulled his new friend into another gentle hug. “I will hold you as often as you need, every time you have to eat, if you’d like.”  
“Thank you, Estel.”  
“It is my pleasure, mellon nin.  
Legolas took a deep breath and stood up. “I’m ready. It’s past breakfast, Ada’s private dining hall will be empty. I…” He hesitated.  
“What is it? Tell me what you need.”  
“I think I’d like it to be just the two of us the first few meals.”  
“Then that is how it shall be. I will kick King Thranduil out myself if he has lingered.”  
“In that case, I hope for your sake he hasn’t lingered.” Legolas laughed lightly, a beautiful, musical sound. Aragorn knew that the prince was by no means cured, but this was a start. Now that he knew how to help, Legolas would make a full recovery. Aragorn would make certain of it.  
As they left the royal chambers, Aragorn caught Legolas’ hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. Legolas seemed to contemplate this for a minute, then squeezed back.   
They got a few strange looks in the hall, as well as several alarmed ones – Aragorn would have to explain things to Thranduil before the king tried to take his head off for laying hands on the prince. Legolas looked nervous, but as his step faltered, Aragorn put an arm around his waist, helping him make steady progress forward.  
He decided to take his friend’s mind off the impending meal. “So, you’ve known my brothers a long time. I bet you have some juicy stories they’d kill you for revealing to me.”  
“Oh yes.” Legolas was suddenly grinning widely. “If I tell you, though, you may have to protect me when we get to Imladris. I never got that purple glitter out of my best tunic after they were through with it…”


End file.
